


You Only Die Twice

by withasideofangst



Series: Apocavengers [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (he isn't suicidal it's just a better option than being eaten by zombies), Alternate Universe - Zombies, Amnesia, Barton your life was easier while you were avoiding zombies, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Ceiling Vent Bucky Barnes, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Identity Reveal, Killing, Mind Control, Mistaken Identity, Science Bros, Spying, Steve Needs a Hug, Suicide Attempt, Temporary Character Death, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombie Bucky, Zombie!Bucky, Zombies, apparently 70 years and a muzzle is a good disguise, but it doesn't work, or Steve is just a tiny bit thick, poor barton, sniper bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 16,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3980488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withasideofangst/pseuds/withasideofangst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Avengers, the apocalypse happens, and no one is quite sure why, but suddenly zombies are roaming the streets, power is down all over the world, and the survivors scramble to create safe zones in the ruins of their once-great cities.</p>
<p>But that's not where it began.</p>
<p>First, a similar thing happened in the 40's, when Captain America and his best friend Bucky Barnes were on a mission, before one and then the other were lost in action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Fates

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mostly-for-fun series I'm writing when I need breaks from the serious, more kick-in-the-feels fics I have planned. Not that this will be without feels entirely. It is an apocalypse, after all, but I guess I have a weird definition of what is fun?
> 
> Tags will be added as the plot progresses, to avoid spoilers.

“Run, Steve!”

Steve would have rolled his eyes if he had the energy.

“I _am_ , Bucky!”

Steve, despite the serum, is hard-pressed to keep up with the figure twenty feet in front of him, as Bucky is more familiar with the territory.

“Well then, run faster!” He yells back, and Steve has to hold back a groan.

“What the hell are these things, anyway?”

Up ahead, Bucky waves his hands around his head without missing a step.

“Beats me!  Ask Stark when we get back!”

Steve pulls even with him and rolls his eyes.

“If Howard knew, I doubt we’d be out here.”

Bucky elbows him, glancing over.

“Yes we would.  He’d want samples, for _science_.”

Steve huffs out a laugh.

“If you have breath for talking, run faster!”

They both run like hell, fleeing the distant screeching noises behind them.  (Steve had wanted to stay and fight, but Bucky had dragged him off after the rest of their team died.  Steve had finally gone because Bucky was still in danger.  Peggy ordering them out over the car’s radio, before it had broken down, might have had something to do with it too.)

They both are nearly out of bullets.  Steve has four shots left, and Bucky has one full one remaining, plus his rifle, which is almost useless in close-quarters.

As they near their pick-up point, Steve shoots a flare into the air, and they hear a plane’s engine start up ahead, warming up.

They’re nearly there when they turn a corner into an alley and have to skid to a halt because more than a dozen of the.... _things_ are standing in the alley, stumbling about aimlessly until they see (or smell) the newcomers.

“Ah, shit,” Bucky curses.

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve chides, and Bucky rolls his eyes, tossing him his gun and going for the rifle on his back, so at least they’re both armed.

They both get off a couple shots before a few of the _things_ manage to separate them.  A few more well-placed shots take them out, and then Steve and Bucky are running again.

“You got any ammo left?”  Bucky asks while they run, huffing in air.

Steve waves Bucky’s gun in the air, then passes it to him.

“Still have this one,” he says, not gasping for air like Bucky is starting to.

Bucky nods as they make it clear of buildings and start sprinting across the small runway their ride was waiting at.

Except the plane is gone, and there are those _things_ everywhere.

“Uh, Steve?  How exactly are we getting out of here?”  Bucky asks, worry finally showing on his face for the first time since the mission began.

They both flinch as the loudspeakers of the tiny airplane tower suddenly screech.

“Hello, boys!”  Howard’s voice is suddenly able to be heard over the speakers.

They both stare at each other, identical looks of dread on their faces.

“Now, to get out of there, you’re both going to climb on top of the tower in front of you, and jump for the ropes we’re going to dangle out of the plane!”

Bucky’s look of dread changes to horror.

“Steve, your friend is insane.”

Steve’s face says quite clearly that he agrees with Bucky.

“And you have no choice, so jump to it, soldiers!”  Howard’s voice sounds again, and Steve and Bucky exchange one more look and take off running for the entrance to the tower, while the things draw closer.

When they’re on the top, they both watch as a small plane flies by with several weighted-down ropes.

Bucky looks at Steve again.  He doesn’t even have to say anything, Steve can read his face.

It very, _very_ clearly says, _Steve, if this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill him_.

Steve doesn’t really blame him at this point.

“Hey, move your asses, people, they’re already sending in the cavalry!”

Steve flinches at Howard’s voice again, but gets ready to jump.  Bucky also gets into position behind him.

“You first,” Bucky hears him grumble, “you can catch me if I miss.”

“Sure thing, Buck,” Steve says.

When the plane flies by again, Steve leaps for it and catches the ropes, turning to look at Bucky, getting ready for the plane’s next pass.

He can also see the things starting to _climb the walls_ of the tower.

“Hurry, Bucky!” he screams.

Bucky runs and leaps for the ropes, and Steve.

Steve stretches as far as he can, and his fingers barely close around Bucky’s wrist.  His weight drops onto Steve’s arm, and he grunts, but doesn’t let go.

“I got you,” he says.

Their eyes meet and Steve is rewarded by Bucky’s small adrenaline-driven smile.

Then one of the _things_ which leapt after him latches onto Bucky’s leg, and Steve loses his grip.

“Bucky!” He screams.

He can just barely see Bucky land on several of the things, but he gets up and starts shooting at the things, trying to get back to the tower.

Steve is screaming at the pilot above him to turn around when he sees Bucky stop, about to be overrun, and he points the gun at his own head.

“Bucky!” He screams again.

But the gun doesn’t go off.

He can’t make out the look of horror on Bucky’s face when the things overrun him.

When the soldiers on the plane pull up the rope, they have to pry it out of Captain America’s fingers while he sits, unresponsive, on the floor for the rest of the ride back, tears leaking out of his eyes.

He reads the mission reports later, of how after the retrieval of Captain America, the army sent in planes to carpet-bomb the area to stop whatever virus turned the people into those things (the army refuses to use the word “zombie,” but the word is floating around the base) from spreading.  He realizes, when the scene keeps playing over and over in his head, and in his dreams, that Bucky had been counting the bullets.

Counting on a full load, and a final bullet if he couldn’t make it.  Better a bullet than those things.

But Steve had used a single shot from that gun before, and Bucky hadn’t known that.

So he’d condemned Bucky to the worse of two fates.

He couldn’t save his best friend.

It’s only a short time later that he flies a plane into the ocean.

Several weeks later, Sergeant James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes, one of the famed Howling Commandos, is officially declared KIA, and Steve Rogers is declared MIA, presumed dead (although Howard Stark refuses to acknowledge this).

The truth is a little bit more complicated than that.

And considerably less pleasant for Sergeant Barnes.

 


	2. The Prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Captain America is un-Capsicled, and after the Avengers are formed and the apocalypse happens.
> 
> The explanations will come later.

He stares at the blonde prey in front of him.

The _others_ are closing in, and the prey is weakening. Its movements are becoming wilder as it realizes this too.

He knows he will have to fight the _others_ off if he wants any of the delicious-smelling prey, and -

_No_.

His thoughts, slow as they are, stop for a moment, and he feels - something strange. He doesn't know what, but there's just an overwhelming sense of _wrongness_.

He blinks, and sees the prey - the man still fighting.

His eyes flicker down to the black metal thing.

_Gun_ , his brain supplies.

He reaches down for it, mimicking the hold the pr- the man had used earlier.

It seems right in his hand. Familiar.

He raises his arm slowly, pointing the end at one of the _others_ , like the man had earlier.

He shoots one through the head, then the other two fall shortly after, bullet holes dead center in the backs of their heads, slicing through the tops of their spines and killing them instantly, embedded in their skulls.

They fall, and the golden-haired man stares at him in shock.

He senses another _other_ behind him and points the gun again and shoots without looking behind him.

There's a thud, and the _other_ falls to the ground.

He takes a step towards the man, and the man tenses slightly.

He stops, and his head lists to the side slightly.

Oh. He is an _other_ too, and has a gun. The man is afraid.

He shakes his head clumsily at the man and crouches slowly to put the gun on the ground.  The man's eyes follow him, getting wider with every second.

He backs away, stumbling slightly over one of the _others_ on the ground, and stumbles to the side of the alley, giving the man a way out.

The man doesn't move for a moment, then he slowly walks forward and picks up the gun, but he holds it by his side, not pointed at him.

"Thanks," the man says, and he watches the man until he shifts on his feet, and he realizes he is supposed to react.

He jerks his head in a sharp nod, and the man relaxes slightly.

"You understand me?"

Another nod.

"You're one of them?"

Nod.

"But you're not like them. You're not trying to eat me."

It wasn't a question, but he nods again.

"Why?"

He frowns slightly.

The words won't come.

The man sighs after a moment.

"Can't speak?"

Nod.

"Not that different, then," the man mumbles.

Nod.

The man looks abashed.

"You heard that?"

Nod.

"Ah, I'm sorry. That was rude. I, uh...anyway, I'm Steve. I figure I should thank you again for saving my life."

Steve holds out the hand not holding the gun, and he stares at it.

It is just a hand. There is nothing in it.

He looks at Steve, frowning again, confused.

"Oh, uh, sorry," Steve says awkwardly, letting his hand fall back to his side.

They stand there silently for a moment, Steve shifting awkwardly on his feet while he stares unblinking, unbothered.

Finally Steve clears his throat.

"Um, can I ask you for another favor? I need to get back to my friends - I'm out on my own and I lost my communicator when those guys attacked."

He nods again, and starts walking back towards the entrance to the alley, sure Steve will be following him.

He moves fast, even with the shuffle in his gait. Not quite graceful, but far faster than the others.

Almost as quickly as the man behind him.

He doesn’t know why this man is different, but he simply knows he needs to be protected. It is an instinct, same as the instinct to feed or to fight back when prey tries to kill him.

So when he leaves the alley, he takes Steve with him, following Steve's directions as they carefully make their way towards Steve's friends.

\---

"Okay," Steve says when they stop for Steve to rest. (He hasn't rested since...since he was not an _other_ , he thinks. He isn't sure.)

"I need to call you something other than the Nice Zombie in my head. You don't have a name, do you? From before?"

He stares for a moment, then shakes his head.

Steve looks unsurprised, if a little disappointed.

"Then, do you mind if I give you a name?"

He shakes his head again. There is a weird pressure in his chest, which he ignores.

"Okay, I'll call you..." he drifts off, and thinks for a moment.

"Saving my ass back there, you remind me of a friend I lost to the zombies a long time ago," Steve says, gazing at his matted hair and the bloody muzzle covering most of his face.  (His long hair is a momentum from _before_ , he thinks. He's not sure of that either, but his hair doesn't grow now.)

"I'll call you James," Steve decides, his voice hitching slightly.

James nods. The pressure in his chest is back again, for a moment.

It feels odd.  Not quite right, but he can’t offer a better suggestion anyway.

It will do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I realize Steve has to be at least a little bit thick to be up close with Bucky and name him after himself and not realize he is talking to Bucky. (Someone will remark on this later, I'm sure. I'd bet on Tony or Barton, I haven't actually written that yet.)
> 
> To be fair, he didn't realize in CA:tWS until the muzzle came off, which Bucky does have here, and he's also a zombie. And currently also dressed like the Winter Soldier. And filthy. So...I'm claiming plausible deniability. Or something.


	3. Rest

James and Steve manage to avoid the _others_ , or zombies, as Steve refers to them, for several hours, until their luck runs out.

Only James smelling the group - the _hoard_ \- stops them from running straight into their midst.

As it is, they don’t make it out unscathed.

Steve is efficient with his gun, but the bullets are quickly used up, as the dead keep rising for more.

James, meanwhile, is ruthlessly bashing skulls in movements far closer to Steve’s than the other zombies.

If Steve weren’t busy trying to keep from being bitten, he would admire the almost _gracefulness_ of his movements.

It certainly isn’t the standard for zombies.

None of this registers with James, who easily takes out more than two-thirds of the hoard alone.

He’s crushing the neck of the last zombie while Steve watches on, a half-horrified, half-admiring look on his face, when Steve shifts and kicks a pebble on the ground, and James’ head swerves towards him, a bloodlust in what little Steve can make out of his face and eyes which makes Steve take a step back on instinct.  James’ eyes are bloodshot and the irises are blood red.

The movement only makes James’ gaze more intense.

Steve clears his throat nervously.

“James?”

The look of befuddlement that crosses the zombie’s face is almost hilarious, if Steve weren’t still a little worried about his new friend’s sanity.

“Hey, buddy, they’re all dead...er, again,” he adds, and James blinks comically, before lowering his left arm, still holding the crushed remains of the last zombie’s throat.

He releases his grip, and the body falls to the floor with a swishing sound that makes Steve wince a little.

“You thinking straight again?”  Steve asks as the bloodlust slowly leaves James’ eyes, and his irises return to their normal color - Steve hasn’t gotten close enough to quite tell what that is, but he’d guess a dull grey, from a distance.

James blinks again, then shakes his head slightly, as if shaking off whatever had been going through his head before, and then he stands straight and nods at Steve.

Steve lets out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

He’s half-turned away when a grunting noise draws his gaze back to James.  For a moment, he’s confused, and then James makes the grunting noise again.  Steve blinks.

“Are you - are you trying to say something?” He asks in disbelief.

James grunts again, and nods once.

Steve watches in shock as James’ face - well, all he really can see around the muzzle is his eyes - contorts slightly with the effort.

“Rrrrr,” he gets out, and if any zombies attacked now, it would be on James to defend them, because Steve’s gaping open-mouthed at him.

“Rrrrrrreeeeeeehhhh,” he tries again.

He grunts in frustration.

“Reh,” Steve repeats the sound, and frowns, thinking.

James nods once, face still contorted.

“Sssssss,” he practically hisses from beneath the muzzle.

Something in Steve’s brain clicks.

“Rest?”  He asks, and James’ face clears, nodding once more.  He looks faintly relieved.

“You think we should rest soon?  I can travel farther,” Steve begins, but is interrupted by James shaking his head slowly again, then he points at Steve’s leg.

Steve looks down, surprised, and notices a rather large gash on his left leg.  Still running on adrenaline from the fight, he’d not even noticed.

“It’ll heal quickly,” he assures James, but James is frowning again and shakes his head.

Steve sighs.

“Fine, but let’s get to a more defendable location at least, okay?”

James nods once again, this time making a grunt of agreement, and begins stalking off ahead, seemingly knowing where he is going.

Steve sighs again, wondering how this has become his life in less than a day, and follows.

They only travel another ten minutes or so before James stops outside a bank.

Steve pauses behind him, noting the slighting dazed expression on James’ face, giving way to faint confusion.

“You know this place?” Steve asks, wondering who the hell this zombie is that seems so much more lucid than any other he’s ever met.

James’ face scrunches up in a series of expressions Steve can’t read from just his eyes.  Chief among them seems to be confusion, however.

Without replying, eventually James practically stalks into the building, and Steve follows a moment later, grabbing a flashlight from his pack which charges via a built-in crank in the bottom.  (Flashlights than ran without batteries had become a hot commodity after the zombies appeared.)

James leads them through the building into the basement, and if James weren’t a zombie, Steve would describe his movements as automatic, almost like sleepwalking.

He finally halts outside a giant vault door standing slightly ajar, and the vaguely confused look on James’ face gives way to a coldness Steve doesn’t like the look of, before he slips into the vault through the slim opening.

It takes Steve a moment longer to pry the door open so he can fit through with the backpack he’s been carrying, while he can hear strange crunching noises from within.

He’s not certain what he’s going to see when he gets the door open, and he’s still confused when he finds James standing still in the middle of the room, oddly-shaped pieces of metal crushed and lying in the corner of the room.

Steve can’t tell what the metal originally was, but James turns his back on it and ignores it.  Some of the pieces look like _very_ crushed computers, and others look like chair legs and arms, mixed in with computer parts Steve has never seen before, but he’s sure Tony would probably know.

He decides not to ask, and sets down his pack in the corner instead.

James watches him for a moment, then silently slips out of the vault again.

Steve doesn’t move from his spot, trusting him to come back, but when he’s gone for a good five minutes, he’s willing to admit that a thread of concern runs through him.

The worry is unnecessary, however, when he hears heavy footsteps walking back towards the vault.  Steve tenses anyway, as the footsteps are a far cry louder than James’ usual ones, which are quiet enough that he might not hear them if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.

The vault door is opened again (and Steve can’t help but notice the ease with which James opens the very heavy door), and he blinks as he sees James, dragging one of the couches from the lobby they’d passed on the way in.

James drops the couch against the wall opposite the vault, and Steve blinks at him.

“Did you...drag that down the stairs...for me?” He asks slowly.

James nods once, grunting again.

Steve is pretty sure his eyes are as wide as saucers.  How the hell did he manage to find a _mother hen zombie_.

“Uh, thanks,” he says finally, when he realizes he’s staring.  James is staring right back, but the wait doesn’t seem to concern him.

James shuffles over to him and Steve tenses purely from habit (and possibly just a little from the smell), which James acknowledges with a glance and by telegraphing his movements, which Steve feels a little guilty about, but James doesn’t seem to mind, grabbing the pack Steve set down and moving it by the couch.

Steve gets the message, particularly once James turns back to stare at him until he shifts uncomfortably.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbles and gets up using the wall as support so he doesn’t put too much weight on his still-healing leg.  It’s ceased to hurt, but there’s still a dull ache running through it.

As he moves toward the couch, James backs off to the other side of the room, and once Steve has laid down, James blinks once and then shuffles over to the vault door again.

For a moment, Steve thinks he is leaving, but instead he shuts the door almost all the way, ajar just enough that they could hear if anything were to approach.  (Or at least, Steve thinks, _he_ could hear, with his enhanced hearing.  He doesn’t know how much zombies could hear.)  Then James sits down with his back to the wall, immediately by the opening.  He doesn’t shut his eyes, instead staring at the opposite wall.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”  Steve asks, and James just shakes his head.

“Can’t sleep?” He guessed, and is rewarded with a nod.

Steve sighs and shifts on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

He can just barely see James’ silhouette once he shuts off his flashlight, barely lit by the ambient light from the corridor.

Steve falls asleep staring at the ghostly outline, wondering again what’s become of his life, that he’s even considering sleeping with a zombie in the same room, one he trusts.

The Avengers are going to _kill_ him.


	4. First Impressions, Take One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh good, we're getting to the fun part. :D

When Steve wakes up, James isn’t in the vault.

He jerks to his feets, looking around and seeing his own gear, but nothing to suggest James had ever been there.

Cursing once under his breath, he grabs his pack and gun and bolts out of the vault, intent on finding James.

He finds him in the lobby, walking back into the bank.

James stops when he sees Steve and the slightly panicked look on his face.

Steve coughs awkwardly.

“I thought you left,” he mutters, and instantly feels his face heat up a little.

He’d been so concerned over a _zombie_.

James blinks once, then walks over, the shuffle in his gait a little more pronounced than before, and he holds out a bag.  It has the bank’s logo on it, so he must have found it in the building, but it is full, and the things inside clank together.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, and James grunts, gesturing for him to take the bag.

Steve does so, opening it to see several varieties of canned foods.

He looks up at James in shock.

“Where did you find these?  I thought the city had been cleared out ages ago.”

It’d long since been thought there was almost nothing edible left in the city, after so many people had pillaged and stockpiled everything they could in the beginning, then the stockpiles depleted as the infection spread, and several stockpiles had been found by later survivors, torn to pieces by zombies, who apparently would still try to eat human food in the first few weeks after infection.

But James has apparently found some sort of stockpile, as all the cans in the bag look brand new, straight off the shelves.

The safe zone the Avengers and SHIELD had created just outside the city could always use more food like this, without having to worry about its edibility.

James doesn’t reply, however, jerking his head towards the door, clearly saying they should leave.

“Okay,” Steve says, storing the new bag of food in his pack.  (The others need it far more than he does, at the moment.)

They step back out into the street and James falls back, following Steve as he leads them further towards the safe zone.  It isn’t too far off (even the Avengers rarely venture more than a day’s travel away from the city), and they could even have made it the previous night if James hadn’t forced them to stop.

There are fewer zombies now, as regular hunting parties are sent out from the safe zone to ensure no one could be ambushed too close to the gate, and they are almost at the gate before they see another zombie.

Then they turn a corner, and find a group of seven zombies stumbling towards the gate.

They turn when they smell Steve.

“Oh, here we go again,” he groans, and grabs his gun, but James is already there, taking on all of them at once.

Steve can only stare at the _efficiency_ of his movements.

When he’s fighting, the clumsiness of being a zombie almost entirely vanishes, and no movement is wasted, each step or punch dealing a deadly amount of force.

In minutes, six are dead, their throats ripped out or their heads broken or, in one gruesome case, pulled off, and the one survivor is only still not dead (again) because it had broken away from the group to head for Steve.

Two bullets in the brain put it down, and then Steve watches as the redness seeps out of James’ eyes again.

He steps out of his fighting position, standing awkwardly while surrounded by the bodies of the six zombies he’d just re-killed.

When Steve is sure he’s out of “zombie mode” (as he keeps thinking of it in his head), he puts away his gun and asks James if he’s ready to go.

He gets a nod and a grunt in reply, and they’ve just stepped out onto the main road leading to the gate of the safe zone when Sam drops out of the sky next to them.

“Who are - Steve?” Sam says, clearly not expecting them.  “Hey, you survived!  We were getting a little worried about you when you never showed last night.”

“Uh, I made a new friend,” Steve says, gesturing at James, well aware this is probably not going to go over well.

Sure enough, Sam’s jaw drops and he has a gun in his hand in less than two seconds.

Somewhat surprisingly, James _doesn’t_ react, which appeases Steve’s fears that he might try to take someone’s head off, but makes him wonder again why his behavior is so unusual.

“That’s a zombie, Steve,” Sam says, his voice forcibly even, and Steve sighs.

“Yes, I had actually noticed that, Sam.”

Sam glances up at him and back at James, who is still standing motionless, staring at Sam’s gun with slightly unfocused eyes.

“You really have some explaining to do,” Sam says, and he doesn’t holster his gun, but he lowers it, and gestures back at the gate.  “Okay, let’s go, but they’re going to want to shackle your new _friend_.”

Steve glances at James, unsure if he is paying attention, and James meets his eyes after a moment, and nods once.

“Okay,” Steve says, and starts following Sam, James trailing behind.

“Oh, and Sam,” he adds, and Sam half-turns without stopping.  “This is James.”

That does make Sam stop for a moment.

“Steve,” he says, and his voice clearly says _I think you’re losing it_ , “did you just befriend a zombie and then name him after your dead best friend?”

“Yeah, I just did.”

There’s a pause, and then Sam starts walking again.

“Okay.  Glad we’ve cleared that up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a question, has anyone noticed Steve's shield hasn't made an appearance yet?
> 
> -dances away like a giant troll-


	5. First Impressions, Take Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think by this point, it’s sort of the Avengers’ motto that nothing can phase them. Not even Steve’s new pet zombie.
> 
> Then again, maybe they’re wrong.

James is allowed through the gate under heavy suspicion, surrounded by a dozen SHIELD agents as guards, and shackled with three sets of handcuffs.  Each agent has his or her gun trained on him, Steve and Sam walking behind them.

To get to the Avengers’ headquarters post-outbreak, they have no choice but to march straight through the compound, as the headquarters is located in the center of the safe zone.

Steve can feel every pair of eyes on them as they walk through, and he instructs the guards to move faster.

They haven’t seemed to realize James is a zombie, but with all humanity has lost since the outbreak, how many friends and family members of the growing crowd around them have died or been turned, he doesn’t want to wait for them to realize.

The instant the doors of headquarters close behind them, he doesn’t relax, but he does let out a breath.

James’ eyes lock on him for a moment, then he turns back away.

They finally stop in a cement cell constructed to hold prisoners before the Avengers could transfer them to SHIELD cells.  Since the outbreak, it’d held zombies they’d captured to study, before the experiments had been called off as failures.

The agents don’t uncuff James when they sit him on the floor, instead chaining the cuffs around his wrists to a bolt in the floor, then posting two guards at the cell door and leaving him there, with Steve standing against the wall opposite from James, watching him just sit there, and Sam sits in a chair outside the cell, watching both of them.

No one comes into the cell until the other Avengers (at least, the ones in the safe zone currently) arrive, relieving the guards.

Steve looks at them through the door.

It’s Tony, Bruce and Natasha, since Thor has been on Asgard since before the outbreak and Barton is out of the safe zone somewhere, on a long-term search for other survivors.

“So, this is your new pet zombie?” Tony asks, raising one eyebrow.

James looks up at him through the bars of the door, his gaze flat, eying first Tony and then the other Avengers.

Steve tenses, waiting for one of the Avengers to insist James needs to be killed.

Instead, the next ten minutes are eaten up by Tony and Bruce peering at James and muttering quietly to each other, Bruce writing notes, and Steve can only understand around one word in ten.

At least none of them seem overly likely to behead James for no reason.

Finally, he clears his throat when he thinks they’re winding down, and James’ gaze goes back to Steve, but Steve notices Natasha staring at James.

So does Tony.

“So, you have a thing for the silent, grungy, dead type?” He asks her, earning himself two glares, one from Natasha and one from James, who must have been paying more attention than Steve had thought.

“Shut it, Stark,” Natasha said quietly, still peering at James.

For a moment, they all just watch her watching James, and then she walks up the door.

“Natasha?”  Steve asks.

“Does he understand you?”

When James makes no motion to reply, Steve nods.

“Yes, he even tried to speak earlier.”

“Well, that’s a new development,” Bruce muttered.

“Would you show us your arms?”  Natasha asks, this time speaking to James.

He stares at her for a long moment, and her eyes narrow slightly.

“Steve, could you try?”

Steve opens his mouth to suggest they respect his privacy, but James has turned back to face him and doesn’t move.

He guesses that’s the most he’s going to get as approval, so he slowly crouches down and reaches towards James’ sleeve.

James watches him but doesn’t move.

Steve pushes back his sleeve a few inches, revealing normal, if extremely dirty, skin.

He glances up at Natasha, who is still watching them with narrowed eyes.

“The other arm,” she says quietly, and Steve complies.

Then all of them stare at James’ arm.

It’s made of metal.

“Oh, thank you Rogers, this is Christmas,” Tony says, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Once Steve shakes off his shock, he steps back from James, who still hasn’t moved, and turns to look at Natasha.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve seen him before,” she says quietly.

“I know you hang with some frankly terrifying people, but when exactly did you meet a metal-armed zombie?”  Tony asks, crossing his arms and raising both eyebrows.

“I didn’t,” she says, still quietly watching James.  “I met the Winter Soldier, when he shot me on mission.”

“ _What_?”  Steve and Tony ask at the same time.

Now James also turns to look at Natasha.

“Do you remember me?”  She asks him.

He watches her for a long moment, then shake his head slightly, pauses, tilts his head, and slowly nods once.

“You aren’t sure?”  She asks again.

Nod.

She lets out a breath slowly, the turns back to look at Steve.

“He wasn’t a zombie when I met him, he was an assassin working for an unknown third party, targeting the man I was guarding.”

“Well,” Tony says in a light voice, breaking the tense moment, “how about we unmask our amnesiac assassin over here, if he’s still playing statue?”

Steve and Natasha both shoot him an irritated look while Bruce sighs, rolling his eyes slightly, and then they all look to James again.

“So, Stinky, you going to let us take off that mask?”  Tony asks.

James doesn’t react.

Then Natasha tilts her head and says something in Russian.  No one else present can understand what she says, but it sounds sharp, authoritative.

Steve doesn’t think James is going to react this time either, but James faces Steve again, sitting rigidly still, staring straight through Steve as if he wasn’t there, eyes unfocused.

It takes Steve a moment before he realizes James is waiting for him to remove the mask.

“What the hell did you say to him?”  Tony asks, taking the words out of Steve’s mouth.

“I played a hunch,” she said quietly, then gestures for Steve to proceed.

Steve slowly walks around to James’ back, and underneath his long, matted hair, there’s a complicated set of straps holding the mask on James’ face.

Surprisingly, it takes Steve nearly five minutes and most of his supersoldier strength to break the thing open.

He circles back to James’ front, and James still hasn’t moved, the mask now only loosely sitting on his face.

Steve reaches out and removes it, then promptly sits down in surprise.

“ _Bucky_ ,” he says.

Then everything goes to hell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Tony is never going to let Steve live this down...


	6. What Now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter update, sorry, but there wasn’t a better place to stop immediately afterwards. Plus writing with a migraine ain’t fun.

The moment the mask comes off, it is the Winter Soldier who moves, metal arm closing around Steve’s throat, pinning him to the wall.

Tony’s still giving a yelp of warning when Natasha shoots three “night-night” (as the SHIELD scientists keep calling them) bullets into his neck, and when he only lurches to one side, she shoots three more.

That’s enough to bring him to his knees, and then he collapses against the back wall, but even then his eyes don’t stop moving - the sedation keeps his body down, but zombies don’t sleep.

“That’s creepy as hell,” Tony mutters, as Natasha opens the cell door and half-drags Steve out, shutting it after them.

All the Avengers are quiet on the walk back up to their common area, even Tony - although that has more to do with the effort involved with helping Natasha half-carry a stunned Steve and less to do with a lack of things to say.

When they all drop down on the couches salvaged from who-knows-where, there’s a stunned silence for several minutes while Tony drains down a scotch or two and Sam talks to Steve quietly under his breath.

Finally, unsurprisingly, Tony is the one to break the peace.

“Okay, so we need to talk about what just happened.”

Steve turns to glare at him, but Tony is unconcerned by the look he’s receiving.

“It was probably the Winter Soldier’s instincts that attacked just now,” Natasha murmurs.  “He acted a lot like how I did when Barton first found me.  Training.”

“Okay, then maybe he gets a pass,” Tony said, dismissing the subject,”But skipping over how our favorite Russian assassin over here met the Winter Soldier before, and now he turns up as a zombie - and we’ll get back to that - now our Capsicle over here called him _Bucky_ and he freaked.  Now, the only Bucky I remember from Dear Old Dad’s stories was Bucky Barnes.  But he died.  Didn’t he?”

Tony stared back at Steve now, as did everyone else.

Even Sam, still sitting next to him.

“Wait, are we saying that the guy down there is Sergeant Barnes?  There’s not a guy in the military who doesn’t know about the Howling Commandos, and -”

“Yeah, Sam, not helping,” Steve mutters, dropping his head in his hands.  “And that was Bucky.  I was with him when he di- when he...There’s no _way_ anyone could survive that, even if he became a zombie!  They firebombed the whole area right after we got cleared!”

“How did he become a zombie, anyway?  We’re talking in the ‘40s, there weren’t zombies back then...right?”  Tony said, squinting at Steve.

“There were.  That mission, Bucky’s last...we didn’t know, back then, what was happening, and it wasn’t quite the same as it is now, but...yeah, some early version attacked a town, and it spread, but slower than now, I don’t know why - it took a while before anyone noticed.  Once they did, they sent in us, but there were no survivors.  They bombed the town, and made sure nothing remained.  I don’t know more than that, that was right before I...crashed.”

“Well, that didn’t make it into the reports.  Even SHIELD’s,” Natasha murmured.

“So then, what, Bucky somehow survives to become a zombie, and then...what?  Who turns him into the Winter Soldier?”  Tony asks, looking at Natasha.

She shrugs.

“We never knew what third party wanted my target dead.  There were a lot of people hunting him.”

“I don’t suppose we could just ask him?”

Everyone turns when Bruce speaks softly from across the room, sitting in one of dining table’s chairs.

“I’m not sure how much he knows,” Steve says, frowning.  “He always seemed confused when we were walking around.”

“But you said he knew enough to get food, and he knew a safe place?”  Sam asked.

Steve nodded.

“That’s true,” he said hesitantly.

“So he remembers enough to try,” Sam says, and Steve nods again.

“Okay, but I don’t want to scare him more than he already is.”

“Cap, I’m pretty sure he scares us more than we scare him.  Also, before we go back down there, is _no one else_ going to mention how Cap managed to name his undead assassin best friend after _himself_?  No one?”

They all turn to glare at Tony, except Steve, who drops his head back into his hands.

“Not helping, Tony,” Bruce mutters quietly.

“Sirs,” JARVIS says, startling them all.

“J, you don’t usually use up power unless it’s important.  What’s wrong?”

“Sergeant Barnes seems to have escaped.”

Tony glances at Steve, who is staring up at the ceiling in shock (the Avengers all seemed to have picked up that habit around JARVIS, despite Tony’s insistence that he wasn’t actually in the ceiling), and then all the Avengers bolt for the door.

“Lock down the building!” Steve yells into a radio - the fastest way to reach SHIELD, since Tony’s generators had yet to solve the no-phones problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony has rigged up enough generators to keep JARVIS running minimally in the building they’re in, but the generators and the solar panels aren’t enough for intense usage, so while JARVIS exists, the internet doesn’t and his abilities are limited. JARVIS was Tony’s first priority after they had set up the safe zone. Cause he’s secretly a huge sap.
> 
> Also, i’m very sorry for the update delay. I have no buffer chapters at the moment, and I was very busy the past couple weeks. I’m going to attempt to fix that, but at the moment I’m two different kinds of sick, so I can’t write for too long at a time. I’ll do my best to at least update once a week, if I can’t do twice as usual, but rest assured I’m not abandoning you all! (And for those of you waiting for INC to update, I’m writing it now too! YODT got priority since it updated longer ago!)


	7. Recall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheeeeee...I hope you guys like this chapter. It's the trickiest I've had to write so far for this fic.

By the time the Avengers are out the door, Bucky is halfway out of the compound, a team of SHIELD agents on his tail.

Steve can outpace the rest of the Avengers until Tony arrives in the Iron Man suit, and only the two of them are both able to keep up and willing to try, once Bucky scales his way out, over the rooftops and over and down the outer wall.

Bucky manages to lose him fairly quickly, however, and it is obvious that, memory loss or not, his undead best friend knows evasive maneuvers far better than he does.

He really is a ghost.

Tony manages to keep track of him a little longer than Steve, with the advantage from the air, but he also loses Bucky within the first three miles of the safe zone.

The Avengers return to their common room quiet and discouraged, and Steve spends the next several hours pounding on punching bags, trying to work out his frustration.

The only thing that keeps him from running after Bucky after that, is Natasha’s quiet insistence that chasing him will only drive him further away.

He’s not wrong.

\---

James - _Bucky_ , he reminds himself - keeps his distance for a while.  He isn’t sure exactly how long, as time didn’t register quite normally with him since he became an _other_.

He only knows the sun goes up and down several times before he approaches the _other_ -free area again.

It isn’t hard to avoid the few scattered patrols which are sent out, and while he doesn’t attempt to enter the walls again, he does keep an eye on the patrols, and even silently saves a team or two when he picks off zombies they don’t notice, ripping out their throats with his metal arm, or bashing their heads in.

When one man falls and cannot be recovered by his teammates, Ja- _Bucky_ takes his gun, staring at it for a long while before taking its holster and putting it on with a familiarity he can’t remember the reason for.

The dead man is also his next meal, but this time he can’t help but know the blonde man, Steve, who called him by two different names which both felt somehow _right_ , wouldn’t approve.

He pushes the feeling aside, knowing he doesn’t have a choice anyway.

There’s only so long he can resist the instinct to feed.

Being so close to the man’s body, however, gives him the first real view of the SHIELD uniform, and its insignia.

He doesn’t know why, but the symbol scares him.

After that, he flees the area for a while, and finds himself wandering the city aimlessly, venturing farther and farther from the _other_ -free zone, until the number of _others_ dwindles as he continues to leave their made food supply behind.

He walks for days, and it is only his status as an _other_ and the control born from being the Winter Soldier, yet another name he doesn’t remember, which allow him to make the trek.

He’s following the ghost of a memory, what he doesn’t recognize as one of the Soldier’s instincts, occasionally stopping when he finds a straggling group of prey if he needs to hunt.

If he doesn’t need to hunt, he keeps his distance or, rarely, saves one or two.

Only when he’s walked for the better part of a week does he find a street which triggers something specific in his brain, and he finds himself wandering down a deserted, ruined street, his vision blurring with ghosts from the past.

He sees men with guns, walking with a familiar rigidity and control (he doesn’t know it, but to a lesser extent, it resembles his own), and he remembers pain, and a symbol everywhere, inescapable and haunting him.

His mind connects the symbol, one he saw as he fled the _other_ -free zone, with another one, and he doesn’t know that he is searching for it, but his does nonetheless.

Eventually, he finds another symbol instead, which reminds him of more pain, and cold burning away into numbness.

The symbol means danger, he knows, three incomplete circles and a fourth complete one.

There’s a word attached to it, everywhere, and he only has to stare at it for a minute or two before he remembers how to read it.

_Biohazard_ , it says.

He walks further and further into the area, until the noise of prey jars him out of his memories.

Fleeing to the roofs and alleys, he watches the prey, memories occasionally flickering across his mind, and when he sees four of them with a caged _other_ between them, he gets his first complete flashback.

He feels young in the flashback, and warm in a way that doesn’t make sense until he remember the heat of the prey - the heat of the non- _others_.

It’s a memory of being alive.

The memory comes with pain, like all of his memories seem to, and he is surrounded by _others_ , and then pain, and fire, and then prey are around him, dragging him away, and there’s cold and more pain, and it seems to last forever.

The memory triggers more like a flood, only one needed to open the floodgates, and although he doesn’t notice, he drops to his knees as pain spikes his mind, and he gets flashes of the Soldier’s coldness, and the pain that came with it.

He remembers the stillness and then the sharp recoil and earsplitting _crack_ of firing a gun.

He remembers the blonde prey, Steve, screaming a name, his name, and thinking he was going to die, but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t become an _other_ , either, except the word the prey - the men - around him use is _zombie_ , not _other_ , and he doesn’t know why, but the unfamiliar men around him seem to, but he doesn’t understand the words.

That’s when he begins to feel cold all the time, until finally, it doesn’t.

The Soldier is on a mission when it and the men around it are surrounded by zombies who are different from the ones before, and this time, when they are overrun, the pain gives way to numbness, and the control of the Soldier breaks, dissolving into an emptiness he can’t escape.

He forgets everything yet again, and nothing penetrates the confusion of his thoughts until the blonde prey who was his friend.

The men around him become prey, and they attempt to control and muzzle him until they realize the Winter Soldier is no more, now that he is a zombie.

When they finally try to kill him, they fail, and the now ex-Winter Soldier flees, abandoning the mission which brought him to the old New York City.

It is only weeks later when he sees Steve again.

When the flood of memories finally ends, Sergeant James Barnes, Bucky, the Winter Soldier, _James_ \- so many names he still can only partially remember - is still on his knees, and he is shaking, both from fear and the pain that came with the memories.

He doesn’t remember everything, but he remembers what he thinks matters most.

Steve, his friend, is the only thing he remembers which isn’t associated with pain.

Except seeing him again, he hadn’t been _complete_ , and the thought confused his still-sluggish brain until he remembers the shield.

He remembers Steve having it in the past, and he remembers is again, more recently.

What’s more, he remembers where it is, and who has it.

Who used to have _him_.

_Hail Hydra_ , he thinks, and jumps off the roof he’s been lurking on, and the prey below dissolve into chaos.

He has a shield to retrieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love feedback on this chapter in particular - I'm not comfortable with "fast recall" chapters in general, but I went for a crack at it for the plot's sake.
> 
> (Also if anyone has read the comics, I think they kinda went even more cheatsy-doodles than I did, in a way? Plus, I mean, zombies, so we've already got a measure of non-realism here.)
> 
> But please let me know, either way!
> 
> Also, poll for you all related to me planning which fics I’ll write after this. Tony and Bucky are my shipping bicycles so I am a multishipper, and I have several fics next which could be any of several ships, and I need to plan them long ahead of when I’m actually done with this fic, so, yeah. I'm not wrapping up this one yet, I'm just planning ahead. Poll: http://www.poll-maker.com/poll342038xB2234Ff5-13  
> (To be clear, I’m a multishipper, and the vote won’t stop me from writing different ships, but I’m curious.)
> 
> (Or send me more fic ideas/prompts via Tumblr! @tiredtypingandtea)


	8. Retrieval

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are any mistakes in this, I've been feeling another bout of sickness this evening and it took more of an effort than normal to manage to write this at all, but I really didn't want to make you wait a full week again.
> 
> (I should have time to write before the Saturday night/Sunday update though so there should still be that update unless I get even more sick.)

When James-Bucky (who still can’t get used to the new-old name, and thus mentally inserts the hyphen) finds the right building, he knows he’s correct when he spots a familiar face in the small group of prey walking around the street.

He doesn’t remember the prey’s name, but he _knows_ his face.

His vantage point on the roof of the building opposite is secured when he attacks the two guards posted there - which provides another guilt-ridden meal, although less so because now he can remember Hydra, and some of what they did.

The spot offers the perfect view of the opposite building, and he waits and watches for a few hours as night begins to fall, determining the guards’ patterns of patrol and their rotations.

Without any form of communication other than face-to-face meetings, it isn’t hard to stay unnoticed, simply dispatching the next rotation of guards when they come up to his roof as well.

When night has fully set in, James-Bucky goes to work, the familiar tug of the Winter Soldier’s conditioning guiding his movements efficiently.

The conditioning is strong enough to even override the ungainliness of his zombie status, and the fearsome grace takes its place as he silently moves through the building.

At first, he uses his metal arm to dispatch any guards he comes across, but when he finds prey with more weapons strapped to them than the normal ones, he relieves several of them of their knives and sheaths, strapping them to himself and moving on, afterwards relying on the knives to take out more prey.

It takes him less than half an hour to clear a path through the building into the lower levels, and once he has located the armory and retrieved even more knives and guns, which he carries out in a large bag he also steals, his body moving almost on autopilot, he finds the shield which started his search, locked away in a case which cannot hold up to his metal arm.

He takes in but does not try to use it, storing it in the bag with his looted weapons, and then makes his way through more of the lower levels of the base, occasionally spotting a familiar face and immediately cutting them down.

Only when he has finished and is on his way back out does he find the man who looks more familiar to him than any other, in a room with several others he also recognizes.

They scream and shout orders when he comes in, knives flashing through the air, but he does not try to understand what they say.

The only words he notes at all are two names, which are burned into his memory.

_Pierce_ and _Rumlow_.

The latter of which is connected to a prey who fights back, but in the cramped room they are in, he does not have enough room to maneuver easily, and he only lasts as long as he does because he manages to shoot James-Bucky through his flesh shoulder.

The wound does not bleed or slow him down for long, as zombies are rather enduring and do not feel so much as register pain’s presence, which is easily dismissed.

Once the prey is cornered, he is killed quickly, and then the other named prey is the last one standing, and he speaks a lot and quickly until he has the prey by the throat.

“Whaaaaa….aaattt,” he tries, and the prey, Pierce, looks shocked by the attempt at speech.

“You can talk?”  He rasps around the hand pinning him to the wall by his throat.

He makes the effort to understand the words this time.  The portion of his memories which is _Bucky_ wants answers.

“Whaaaat….did yooooouuuu...do tooo...meeeeee,” he manages, slowly, his voice little more than a rasp.

He has to loosen his fingers slightly for the prey to reply, but the prey doesn’t manage more than a few words about the “glory of Hydra” and the “good he has done” before the Bucky memories are done with him.

His neck breaks easily, and James-Bucky leaves the building without further delays.

He has a long walk back.

\---

While his best friend is trekking across the ruins of the eastern US coastline, Steve is left worrying in the New York safe zone.

The other Avengers worry in turn over _him_ as he spends most of the next two weeks after Bucky’s disappearance roaming further away from the safe zone than is typically permitted for safety’s sake.

He even spends several nights sleeping out in the ruins of the city, with Sam and Natasha taking turns going with him, and each take turns keeping a watch out while the other sleeps.

Not that Steve sleeps much the entire two weeks.

When it becomes clear he isn’t stopping, Natasha attempts to get word to Barton, who has been on a long-term recon mission away from the safe zone, looking for more human survivors and supplies.

Of all the Avengers, Barton is the most familiar with the ruined city and which areas are safer than others, along with where a zombie might run for safety.

Word does not reach him, however, by the time two weeks pass.

On the seventeenth day since Bucky escaped, Steve is taking a lunch break in his search on a roof downtown when an all-too-familiar figure walks silently up behind him on the neighboring roof, practically covered in knives and with a large bag on his back, face still stiff but eyes slightly less empty, and removes a large object from the bag he carries.

There’s more of a feeling than a noise when the figure throws the object at Steve, and it is pure instinct which causes Steve to whip around, shifting into a defensive stance automatically, and it is equally only his instincts which let him catch the shield which was just flung at him.

Steve is motionless for a good thirty seconds before he fully comprehends what he is holding, and once he does, his jaw drops as he looks back up at the figure on the adjacent roof, which is rapidly fleeing across the rooftops before crashing straight through the window of a building and continuing to run.

By the time his legs unfreeze, Steve has no chance of catching up.

But this time when he watches Bucky vanish into the city again, he’s left with the shield instead of being empty-handed.

Once it’s clear he’s lost Bucky’s trail, Steve defeatedly turns back to the safe zone, to be greeted with shock when the SHIELD agents and the other Avengers see him with the shield on his arm.

He’d still trade it for the man who just vanished, but that’s not a deal being offered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter changed from what I'd been originally planning, and I entirely blame Bucky. (Mostly in that there was going to be more talking by Pierce or Rumlow which did not happen because he just didn't want to listen.) But it's not going to detract from the overall story.
> 
> And now that Bucky's getting his memories back, I can eventually have him actually explain some things, because he knows. Or he will once he remembers. He just needs to learn to speak a bit better so I don't have to drag out every word first...plus, of course, he needs to be willing to talk to the Avengers in order to have anyone to explain things to...
> 
> #casualmurderofHydrapeople hahahahahaha


	9. A New Face

It is another week before James-Bucky approaches the safe zone again, and when he finally does, he finds a good perch nearby and just watches, only leaving when he occasionally needs to hunt.

When the urge does force him to find prey, he is sure to wander far from the safe zone first, often spending a day wandering far from the ruined city before he finds a straggling group and attacking them.

Increasingly, each time, he can hear Steve’s voice in his head, disappointed that he’s killed another innocent.

He does his best to look for those who don’t seem to be particularly good, such as one prey who was in the process of stealing from another prey.  He let the second prey run away, but the guilt was still there.

The guilt and need to hunt and kill together are what makes him decide to continue to keep his distance, even when he sees Steve on the outer walls, staring out into the city or talking with the guards, or even walking out to look for him.

Steve never even glimpses him.

So when he arrives at his perch one day and there is someone in it, his first instinct is to kill the intruder.

He has already silently grabbed the hilt of one of his knives when he remembers he shouldn’t kill the prey - prey from the non-zombie zone are not prey, they are...human, he reminds himself, and Steve might know them.

He doesn’t put away the knife, but neither does he throw it at the prey...the _man’s_ back.

Only when he purposefully makes a sound moving closer, however, does the man stiffen, and he knows he’s been noticed.

The man whips around and before he can do more than take a step back, there’s an arrow glancing off his metal shoulder.

His instincts drive his motions, and in less than a second, his knife is against the man’s throat, and his metal arm pins the man’s bow to the ground, away from him.

Just as quickly, he grabs the bow, backs off, and drops it a distance away when he’s sure the man can’t retrieve it and shoot him before he can get away.

He underestimates the man’s speed, however, and while he does successfully disappear, he does it with an arrow in his right leg.

It doesn’t slow him down, but he can feel the numbing craze of the undead attempting to rise within him, and after he rips the arrow out, he spends several days far from the safe zone, hunting again but not trusting himself to be anywhere near off-limit humans with the craze too near the surface.

When it takes over, he can’t do much more than point himself at a target and withdraw in his own mind.

He doesn’t want to risk doing so anywhere near Steve and his... _friends_.

\----

When Barton walks into the Avengers common room, he’s got a bruise on one arm where the metal arm had gripped him, and the barest trace of a cut on his neck from the knife.

Natasha notices it anyway.

She just raises an eyebrow at him.

“What?” He asks, and the other Avengers look over, realizing they were missing something.

“Welcome back,” Sam interjects quickly.

Natasha continues to give him the look, however, and he sighs.

“Hey, it’s not _my_ fault you all apparently are incompetent at your jobs.”

Natasha’s eyebrow rises higher, and Steve and Sam frown.

“What do you mean?”  Steve asks.

Barton sighs, putting his bow down on the coffee table and dropping back on a couch.

“I was just visiting one of my favorite sniper nests near the gate when a zombie got rather close - either they’re getting quieter, or I’m going deaf,” he jokes.

He doesn’t expect the silence he gets in return.

“What?”  He demands, when everyone just stares at him.

“Wait, what happened?  What did he look like?”  Steve demands, leaning towards Barton eagerly.

Barton frowns, not understanding the interest.

“I didn’t exactly get a good look, but he had longer matted hair, and honestly looked a bit homeless, although he moved like a soldier, and faster than you’d believe - Where are you going?”

Barton watches Steve get up and start pacing, and when he doesn’t answer, he turns to Sam.

“What’s going on?”

Sam looks resigned.

“That’s Bucky Barnes.  He saved Steve earlier, and recently brought him his shield.”

Barton blinks.

“Wait...the _shield_?  Wasn’t that lost?”  He asks, and when Sam nods, the rest of the answer hits Barton.

“Hang on, you said Bucky Barnes... _the Bucky Barnes_?  The one with Cap in the forties?  The sniper every soldier who trains to be a sniper looks up to?  He’s _alive_?  And a _zombie_?”  Barton’s jaw drops.

“Well, technically, he’s not strictly _alive_ ,” Tony says, smirking slightly.  “By the way, Katniss, your inner fangirl is showing.”

“Screw yourself, Stark, Bucky Barnes was my _idol_ as a kid.  And I just...shot...him,” he adds, his voice trailing off as that hits him, and everyone stares at him again.

“You left that part out,” Natasha says dryly, watching Steve stare at him.

Barton swallows.

“You shot him?  Was he hurt?”  Steve demands.

“Uh, no, he didn’t seem particularly bothered by it, actually,” Barton replies, but Steve runs out the door anyway.

Sam sighs.

“I don’t know where he thinks he’s going, we’ve already determined there’s no catching that particular zombie until he wants to be caught,” he says, but he gets up and follow Steve out anyway.

The remaining Avengers sit there in silence for a moment, and then Barton groans and collapses more completely into the couch.

“Why does no one tell me these things _before_ I blow everything up?”

“You disappearing into the wild for several months at a time might have something to do with it,” Natasha replies, and Barton attempts to further become one with the couch, groaning into the cushion again.

“Oh, and he also happens to be the Winter Soldier,” Natasha adds, and there’s no reaction from Barton for several long moments.

“He’s going to kill me.  That’s it, I’m a dead man.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I cracked a joke about Barton being deaf, as he is in the comics. I couldn’t resist. XP
> 
> YODT: Now with twice the snipers!


	10. Close Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I GET TO USE A TAG AGAIN THAT WAS REALLY LOVED LAST TIME, YAY! (I’m the only one to use it so far, I think! NEED MOAR FICS.)
> 
> This is a slightly shorter chapter, but I've been dying to write this scene for a long time. Poor Barton. XD

Barton is seriously concerned about running into the Winter Soldier again, and that plus the mountain of paperwork an irritated Fury dumped on him kept him well within the walls for the next few days.

When the hustle and bustle of having so many humans in such a small area finally gets to him, he takes to his old haunts - the vents.

He takes a flashlight with him and some of the vast mountain of paperwork, and crawls his way into one of the wider vents over some of the main meeting rooms.

He’s halfway through yet another mind-numbing report when he realizes, with a chill on the back of his neck, that he’s not alone in the vents anymore.

He slowly glances up, and his entire body freezes, including the hand which was slowly inching towards the knife at the back of his belt.

The beam of his flashlight is pointed the wrong way to illuminate the figure less than ten feet away, but enough light bounces off their surroundings to illuminate the metal arm.

Barton forgets to breathe for a long moment.

When he decides that his continued ability to breathe is a good sign, he sucks in air and _very_ slowly reaches forward and rotates the flashlight enough to view the zombie in front of him.

“He...llo…” Barton says, hesitantly.

The Winter Soldier blinks back at him, looking more like an undead hobo (albeit with an awful lot of knives) than a legendary ghost assassin.

“Hel...lo,” he grunts back, and Barton doesn’t show his surprise.

“Uh...is there something you want from me?”  Barton asked cautiously, still overly aware of the tight quarters and his distance between his hand and his knife.

And how close the Winter Soldier had gotten without his notice.

“Iiiif,” the Winter Soldier begins, and Barton’s attention snaps to him again, “I...huuuuurt….”

He trails off, and makes a rasping noise that worries Barton for a moment until he realizes he’s making a coughing noise.

“If you hurt anyone?”  Barton guesses, and gets a nod in return.

“Kiiiiiill...meeeeeee,” he rasps out, and Barton’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Okay,” he says, still wary.  “You really are Cap’s Bucky Barnes, aren’t you?”

The Winter Soldier flinches, and Barton tenses again for another long moment.

“Not...hiiiim,” he insists.  “Jaaaaaames.”

Barton remembers Steve’s explanation that he’d named Bucky James before realizing who he actually was (sparking a new round of teasing by Tony).

“Okay, we’ll call you James.  By the way...you were my childhood hero.  Every sniper knows the name Bucky Barnes.”

Now James looks uncomfortable.

“Nooooot meeee,” he insists again, but Barton shrugs.

“He’s somewhere in your head, or you would have killed Cap like any other zombie would...and you’d be killing me now.”

James frowns again and shakes his head slowly.

“Doooon’t waaant to.”

“Well, good,” Barton replies, “since I don’t really want to die anyway.  Or to kill Cap’s best friend, then _he’d_ kill me.”

One of James’ eyebrows disappears upwards behind his matted hair,and his mouth slowly changes into a frankly terrifying expression.

It takes a good minute for Barton to recognize it as a smile, if a rather predatory one.  It’s certainly not the charming smile from Bucky Barnes’ old photos.

“Coooould...tryyyyy,” he says, and Barton feels a chill run down his spine.

“I’d rather not,” he says frankly, and the grin grows wider for a moment before it fades.

Then James nods once more, and crawls backward silently, disappearing into the darkness of the vents behind him.

Barton shakes off another shiver and turns back to his paperwork.

At least he didn’t just get killed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that anyone but me probably cares, but about the flashlight Barton has, I own a flashlight which is charged via a crank built into the side, and that’s the kind I’m picturing is common in the post-zombie world, as batteries and electricity are still scarce outside Tony’s modifications to the base.
> 
> Also, I still owe you another update from last Wednesday, I’m going to try to do a double update as soon as I can get two done. Aaaaahhhh so much to do, but I’ve started the next one! It’s just not done yet but I wanted to give you at least one for the Sunday update.
> 
> By the way, if I ever miss updates without warning, I will try to post explanations on my tumblr (tiredtypingandtea) with the tag “withasideofangst AO3”.


	11. Hail Hydra

James (rejecting the name Bucky, as it didn’t seem to fit him any longer) spends most of his time in the vents, after running into Barton.

He’s constantly aware of the archer whenever he’s also in the vents, despite the agent’s spy training.

James is still far quieter, and ensures that he does not accidentally run into Barton, and that Barton does not run into him.

Instead, James takes the time to learn how the safe zone runs, spending several more days lurking about, all without anyone realizing he is there.

He sees agents and normal people coming and going, and sometimes little things trigger memories of his life either as the Winter Soldier or as Bucky Barnes.  But nothing big is triggered until he sees a bald man with glasses, talking to other agents he recognizes as parts of Hydra.

_Hail Hydra_ , he thinks with venom, and watches the men talking until he catches their names, cataloguing everything they say.

_“- lost contact with them last week.”_

_“This is an entire base, we’re talking about.  That many people don’t just disappear!”_

_“We’ve sent a runner, but he won’t be back for at least another week.”_

_“Their radio better just be broken.  This is Pierce we’re talking about, we can’t just lose him.”_

_“Yes sir, I’ll keep you posted of any developments.”_

_“Good.  Now, about -”_

When James has heard enough, he silently scuttles off through the total darkness of the vents.

He doesn’t have to wait too long, near a _particular_ grate, before it slides back and a blonde head appears through it.

James is far enough back that Barton doesn’t realize he’s there until he’s half inside the vent.

When he does, he freezes, and the deer-in-the-headlights look on his face would have made the old Bucky Barnes laugh.

Instead, James just stares while Barton restarts his heart.

“Jesus, Barnes,” he says, wheezing only slightly.  “Why the _hell_ are you lurking right above my room?”

“Geeet….Aveeeeengeeerrrsss,” James manages with only a little difficulty.

His thinking has cleared somewhat since he has regained some of the Winter Soldier’s control and coldness, but that just means he notices and is more easily frustrated by his difficulty speaking.

Along with his increased guilt, inherited from the memory of Bucky Barnes, when he hunts.

He’s neglected it recently, and knows he needs to leave soon.

But first.

“Get the Avengers?”  Barton confirms, surprised.

When Bucky nods, his concern grows.

“What’s wrong?  You’re not going to turn the base into a buffet, right?”

James glares for a long moment, cracking the slight smile on Barton’s face, before shaking his head.

“Neeeeed...to taaaaalk.  Ouutsiiiiide.”

“Okay,” Barton nods.  “We’ll meet you outside the gate.  Give me ten minutes or so.”

When James nods again, Barton ducks back out of the vents, sliding the grate closed behind him, and James turns towards the nearest way out he’s found, moving quickly without sacrificing the silence of his movements.

Despite traveling secretly, he still beats Barton and the others outside, and he’s waiting in the sniper’s perch he and Barton both preferred nearest the gates into the safe zone, when the Avengers exit the gate.

Barton leading, with Steve practically stepping on his heels, tense and looking worried, they head straight past James’ perch, and Barton gestures up at him to come down and talk, correctly guessing his position.

Steve’s eyes arc over the place where James is hiding, and even though there’s no way he could see James despite his enhanced sight, James has to fight the instinct to hide from the piercing stare.

Instead, once the gaze moves on, James slips away and makes his way down to the alley the Avengers are waiting in.

With his Winter Soldier instincts still screaming to keep both the tactical advantage and ease of escape, James doesn’t drop all the way to ground level, instead making his way down a fire escape and stopping at the second-floor level.  It won’t give him a vast head start if he needs to flee, but it would be enough to make a small difference.

Once he’s in position, he grunts softly to get their attention, and everyone spins to focus on him, to his discomfort.

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve gasps, and then winces.  “Sorry, _James_.”

James, who flinched at the first name, nods once, then eyes the other Avengers, who look on guard but not likely to instigate a fight.

“What did you want to tell us?”  Barton asks.

James is frustrated when he’s not sure where to begin, or of everything he wants to say, until he realizes Steve would get the most important bit quickly, if he just said -

“Haaail Hydraaa,” he growls, anger in his raspy voice, and his eyes meet Steve’s, which widen in shock.

The Avengers are frozen for a moment, and then hands immediately leap to knives, guns, shields, or bows.  (Except for Bruce, who looks nervous, and Tony, who is in the suit and doesn’t need additional weapons.)

“Excuse me?”  Barton says, eyes bugging out.

“You work for Hydra?”  Natasha says tensely, and James shakes his head.

He growls angrily.

She tilts her head, squinting at him.

“You _worked_ for Hydra?”  She tries again.

He nods.

Steve gapes at him.

“But...Bu-...James, the SSR defeated them….didn’t they?”  He adds, glancing over at Natasha and the others.

But James is the one to reply first.

“SHIIIIEEEELLLD,” he manages, and everyone stares at him again.

“What about SHIELD?”  Steve asks.

“Is Hydraaa,” he grunts again.

You could cut the silence that follows with a knife.

“No...no way,” Barton says, staring, appalled, at James, then Natasha, and he looks horrified.

She looks tense and worried too, when she meets his gaze.

“Pieerce,” James says.  “Rumloooow.  Sitweeellll,” he adds, throwing in the name he’d remembered earlier in the vents.

“ _Hydra_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if anyone noticed, but this is the first chapter from James’ POV where he’s referring to people as people and agents and not as prey! Progress!
> 
> Also, luckily I got this chapter written before my deadlines got slaughtered this week!
> 
> As usual, if I do miss any updates without warning, I'll do my best to post why on my tumblr, tiredtypingandtea, with the tag "withasideofangst AO3".


	12. Explanations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s some narration to spare you all from loooooonnngggg draaawwwn oooouuut zoooombiiiiieeee speeeech.
> 
> Because no.

It takes more than two hours for James to groan out terse explanations of what he can remember of Hydra.

A lot of his memories are patchy, and some of it is guesswork, trying to fill in the blanks.

What he does remember, is the fall.

He was supposed to die, but the gun didn’t go off, and then there was only pain.

Until there wasn’t.

He hadn’t become a zombie then.  He couldn’t quite remember everything, but after the fall, there was a different kind of pain, and that was when Zola had taken his arm, and he’d become the Winter Soldier.

What followed was decades of working for Hydra under the Soldier’s cold control and clear, decisive orders.

He skipped over most of those details, both for the sake of time and because the more he talked about being the Soldier, the more Steve’s face grew pinched, concerned and sorrowful.

His memories of Bucky Barnes shouted that Steve shouldn’t look like that.  James was doing something wrong, for him to look like that.

So James avoided telling them of the few missions he could remember, or the pain - the large assortment of pain he’d felt.  Particularly the wipes.

What he did tell them included all the names he could remember, no matter how long ago they lived.

Many of them were dead, some by his hand, at the end of yet another arm of Hydra.  “Internal politics,” Pierce had joked once, within his earshot.

There were more gaps in between his last few defrosts, but he remembered zombies, different from the ones in the forties.

And this time, they were with his handlers, in cages.

Then they weren’t.

More gunfire, more pain, and then the coldness of his mind was shattered yet again, this time replaced by numbness.

When he is done, there is silence for a long time, and then the metal suit - Iron Man, he knows the name is, from...where?

Some Hydra file he can’t completely recall.

Iron Man, aka Tony Stark, one of the Avengers, and prior to that, a consultant to SHIELD.

Tony Stark speaks, too quickly for James to completely follow, but he catches the gist.

He is reasoning that, whether or not Hydra had anything to do with the original zombies in the forties, they were at least responsible for developing the newer strain of the zombie virus, which is far more volatile and infectious than the original.

Something went wrong, and when the Winter Soldier was infected, the zombie virus overwrote Hydra’s programming, and James lost his memories yet again, and was possibly presumed dead by his handlers, as no one seemed to be looking for him.

But this time when he lost his memories, he found Steve before Hydra found him, and the memories of Bucky Barnes returned before his memories of the Soldier.

Or at least, that’s what James gathers from Stark’s long-winded explanation.

When Stark finally pauses for air, the other Avengers are all talking at once, over each other, and James can’t follow anything they are saying.

After another several minutes, they don’t seem to be quieting down, and James decides nothing is gained from his remaining in place, so he gets up to leave.

They all look up when he does, however, and he freezes, halfway out of his crouch.

“Don’t leave again,” Steve pleads, and once again the memory of Bucky Barnes in James’ head is not pleased that he’s caused Steve even more distress.

James shakes his head.

“Stiiiiill...a moooonsteeeer,” he groans.

“You’re not -” Steve starts, and James glares at him, cutting him off.

His glare has definitely become more terrifying since becoming a zombie.

“Aaaaam,” he insists.  “Eaaaat...preeey….no, peeeeople.”

“We can probably help you with that, Undead Red.”

James’ eyes jerk to Stark.

“What?”  Steve asks, for him.

“Oh come on, between me and Brucie?  We’ve got two genius scientists.  Maybe we haven’t been able to stop the zombie virus, but we can certainly try to find something for you to eat besides, well, _us_.”  Stark says.

“Stark, are you sure?”  Steve asks, his eyes lighting up with hope, and James frowns, but there’s a lighter feeling in his chest too.

“We can sure try,” Stark says, nodding.  “Shouldn’t be too hard.  Meantime, you,” he adds, gesturing at James, “I need a sample of your blood.”

“Why?”  Barton asks, glancing between James and Stark.

“He was bitten by zombies in the forties but didn’t turn into one, but others did, if less quickly than now.  And now, sure he’s a zombie, but he isn’t acting like a normal zombie, or we wouldn’t all be standing here right now.  Maybe there’s something in his blood that we can use, which isn’t there in the normal type of modern zombie.”

“Well...it’s sounds worth a shot.  James?”  Steve asks, turning back to him.

James hesitates, but nods.

“Good.  Glad I brought this, then, just in case.”  Stark takes an empty syringe out of one of the compartments in his suit and holds it out.

Barton glances between Stark and the other motionless Avengers, and the motionless James, who was clearly unwilling to come down from his perch.

“If I come up there, are you going to be okay with that?”  He asks, and James nods while Steve opens his mouth to argue.

But Barton knows James would refuse.  Barton’s no small threat, but Steve is closer to James’ threat level in close quarters than Barton is.

From what he knows of the Winter Soldier, there’s no way his instincts would allow Steve that close with all the Avengers nearby and Steve wanting him to stay with them.

So Barton fires a grappling arrow well away from James before taking the syringe and pulling himself up to James’ level.

He silently passes it to James, and James equally silently pushes up his right sleeve and is about to reach out with his left when he hesitates.

“Wiiiill breeeaaaak iiit,” he says.  “Doooo iiiiit.”

He gestures at the needle and then at Barton, who blinks, but nods, and quickly but carefully draws his blood, then carefully caps it and holds it gingerly, like one might handle a live grenade, until he’s passed it back to Stark on the ground.

“Wiiill check in laaaaterrrr,” James groans, and then he’s disappearing up the fire escape and he’s gone.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, it’s an early Christmas, and I have work to do,” Stark says, and he’s rocketing back towards the base.

“Don’t worry, Steve,” Barton says, glancing at their morose Captain.  “He’ll come back, and we’ll all take down Hydra.”

“Again,” Steve says sadly, and they start the walk back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two polls for you guys, about future fics. Let me know in the comments if you have any questions about them. :)  
> http://www.poll-maker.com/poll357965x26193650-14  
> http://www.poll-maker.com/poll358903x43bE8B4D-14
> 
> And here, have a preview for next chapter:
> 
> “Oh no. Don’t you dare. Steve is going to kill you, and then he’s going to kill me, for not stopping you.”
> 
> “I aaaam the Wiiinter Soooldier,” James says, and watches Barton’s hand edge slightly towards his knife.


	13. There and Back Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not so fond of this chapter title, but I couldn't think of anything better. :/
> 
> This isn't a long chapter, but it's needed.

James stays away long enough to hunt, far from the city, before returning and breaking back into the vents.

He tracks the members of Hydra he’s aware of, making mental lists of anyone who might be another member.

He watches Sitwell most of all, and sees when he receives word that the D.C. base had been destroyed.

The man delivering the news describes it in detail.  James doesn’t even remember doing some of it, sunk deep into the Winter Soldier’s programming.  More, he knows wasn’t him, when the man describes other zombies roaming the base, feeding off the bodies he’d left behind, and any survivors.

There weren’t many.

He is trailing the man who’d delivered the news when he hears distant sounds in the vents, barely audible, and he knows Barton is in the vents.

When there’s a quiet but noticeable pattern of taps on the floor of the vents, James recognizes the morse code for “talk.”

He changes direction and finds Barton instead.

When he is close, he stops and waits for Barton to notice him.

It doesn’t take long, and Barton barely flinches when he spots him, which James counts to his credit.

“Taaaalk,” James says, and waits.

“Jeez, buddy, you’re a ghost.  Look, we’re all trying to give you time, but Steve’s restless, worrying, and, well…”

“Yoooou caaaan’t let meeee ruuuun arooound, eating peeeople.” James adds.

Barton meets his eyes, steady.

“Yeah, there’s that.”

There is a tense silence for a moment, while neither of them move.

“Staaaark?” James asks.

“He and Bruce are working on it.  They’re making progress.  Knowing them, they’ll have something in a week.”

James grunts, skeptical, but doesn’t reply.

Barton waits for a moment, and then realizes James isn’t going to answer.

“Okay, fine.  Want to tell me what you’ve been doing in my favorite hangout since you came back?”

“Hydraaaa,” James replies.  “Followiiiing.”

His voice is terse, as he focuses hard in order to speak as clearly as he can.

“Sitweeell,” he adds.  “Contaaaacting ooothers.  Mooore heaads.”

“Did you find out who?”  Barton asks, growing more serious.

James shook his head.

“Wiiiill...fiiind oooout.”  He says.

When Barton grows alarmed, James knows he guessed.

“Oh no.  Don’t you dare.  Steve is going to kill you, and then he’s going to kill me, for not stopping you.”

“I aaaam the Wiiinter Soooldier,” James says, and watches Barton’s hand edge slightly towards his knife.

James fixes him with a look, and Barton moves his hand back.

“Nooot goooing to huuurt _yooou_ ,” James says, scowling slightly.

Barton shrugs.

“That’s doesn’t change what Steve is going to do to me if you go play Winter Soldier with Hydra again,” he says grimly.

“Sorry,” James says, and Barton bangs his head against the vent floor.

“Great, _you’re_ not going to kill me, _Steve_ is.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Barton. XD I very nearly made the chapter title Poor Barton, just for kicks...
> 
> Here are the same two polls as last chapter, for anyone who missed them:  
> http://www.poll-maker.com/poll357965x26193650-14  
> http://www.poll-maker.com/poll358903x43bE8B4D-14  
> (You lot aren’t making this easy on me for the second one, it’s been more or less at 50-50 the whole time! -slams head into table-)


	14. Pulling the Strings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little shorter, sorry, but...well, you’ll see why I ended it where I did.

James isn’t watching when Barton has to tell Steve what he’s about to do.

(Steve turns a shade of puce that Barton didn’t know could be found on a human being.)

Instead of watching Steve shout loud enough to alarm every SHIELD agent within earshot, James is sneaking through the vents, dropping into Sitwell’s office.

He only has to wait around an hour.

When Sitwell walks in, he lets the door close behind him and then turns on the light, sighing.

He looks up, and if James were still human, were still _Bucky_ , he would be laughing at the expression on Sitwell’s face.

At first, he looks like a deer in headlights, and then he looks like he’s about to be sick.

But when James stays motionless, staring at him and mimicking how he remembers the Soldier acting around his handlers, Sitwell slowly relaxes.

James isn’t fooled, and can tell he’s only pretending not to be scared shitless, but he remains motionless.

“Soldier, report,” Sitwell finally says, and James knows he’s doing his best to not let his knees shake.

“Maaaaaalfunctiooon in the aaaaasset,” he manages, noting Sitwell’s flinch when he realizes the Soldier before him is a zombie.  James guesses Hydra reported him dead despite the lack of a body.

Their mistake.

“Malfunction?” Stiwell asks, sounding confused.  “Then why are you here?”

“Reeeepoooorted to maaaain haaandlers.  Haaaandlers non-fuuunctionaaal.  Reeeporteed to hiiighest poooint of cooontact in viciniiity.”  James manages, having a little trouble with some of the words as he keeps his voice as even as he can, in the Winter Soldier’s dead tone.

Sitwell blinks.

“You mean you went to D.C., but found it destroyed?”

James nods once, a sharp gesture.

“Do you know who destroyed the base?”  Sitwell asks.

James shakes his head.

“Fooound haaandlers teeerminaaated,” he grunts out, “ooorders to reeepoooort to hiiighest poooint of -”

“Yes, yes, you said that already,” Sitwell interrupts, annoyed, and somewhere in James’ brain, Bucky is smirking and the Winter Soldier wants to kill the man before him, who would be an unworthy handler.

Sitwell paces, and James watches, thinking of how many vital points the man exposes every time his back is turned.

Finally, Sitwell turns back to him and seems to be thinking hard about something.

(Bucky would make a sarcastic comment about not hurting himself.)

When Sitwell speaks again, it’s a short phrase in rather badly-pronounced Russian, and James has just long enough to think _"_ _shit"_ before the Winter Soldier’s programming receives a sharp jerk to the forefront of his mind.

James’ posture instantly droops, hands and head relaxing so he slumps forward in his chair like a rag doll.

After a long moment, Sitwell speaks again, and the Winter Soldier is standing on his feet at attention, staring forward blankly, waiting for orders.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....  >:D
> 
> (To be clear, although I and James are referring to Bucky and the Winter Soldier like different people than James, they’re not split personalities in this, just...different impressions in his head, if that makes sense. More like instincts than actual voices in your head, or if you’ve ever had an argument with yourself in your head, it’s like that.)


	15. Pursuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, no James POV for you this chapter...Welp.

Once Steve is done yelling at Barton for letting James attempt to contact Hydra alone, the Avengers scatter to try to figure out where he might have gone.

Barton returns to the air vents, headed for Sitwell’s office, guessing that would be James’ first destination.  He’s the highest positioned Hydra officer they’re aware of, since James killed Pierce and Rumlow.  (Privately, Barton is still getting over Pierce being Hydra.  He bets Fury will lose it once they tell him, but James swore them to secrecy for the moment.)

By the time he reaches the office, Sitwell and James have left, but he can just barely hear Sitwell’s voice, speaking orders quietly, and he follows the sound.

He watches as Sitwell calls two other agents - who Barton immediately memorizes the faces of, to add to their Hydra files - and they march James away between them, avoiding contact with any other agents.

Barton watches for several minutes, admiring James’ acting ability, before an awful thought occurs to him.

His fears are confirmed when he follows the agents and James outside, then out of the base and over the rooftops until they’re in an empty alley not too far away.

The two agents talk to each other and James for a few minutes, but Barton can’t hear what they’re saying, then while one checks his watch, the other holds a gun out, pointed at James.

James doesn’t flinch.

Barton is climbing into a position from which he can shoot to help James, hoping James knows he’s there and can help, when more agents arrive, including Sitwell again.

He can just barely hear some of their words, enough to gather that they’re talking about the Winter Soldier and whatever James had told Sitwell in his office.

One agent seems more nervous than the rest, and gestures at James angrily a lot.

Barton is quietly taking out his bow and arrows when the shot goes off.

For a moment, Barton is too shocked and horrified to react, then he tracks the shot, and realizes the agent pointing the gun fired, straight through James’ flesh arm.

James doesn’t twitch, and Barton feels dread like someone cracked a raw egg over his head, dripping down his back.

James _isn’t_ that good of an actor.

He’s looking at the Winter Soldier.

He let James walk straight back into Hydra’s hands, and they managed to reactivate whatever programming made him their Soldier in the first place.  (Somewhere in his brain, Barton knows he couldn’t have _stopped_ James, but that doesn’t make him feel any better.)

Aware that killing the agents present won’t help anyone now, Barton grits his teeth but doesn’t fire.  When the agents leave, he tracks the ones who leave with James, spending far more care than normal to stay unnoticed by the infamous assassin below him.

It takes more than an hour for the agents to reach their destination, a plain, abandoned building downtown, surrounded by more abandoned buildings.  There is nothing to indicate anything unusual, but when no one exits after ten minutes, Barton pulls out the emergency communicator Tony had made and given him before he left on his last long-distance scouting mission.

Once activated, it would alert JARVIS to his position, and JARVIS would call the Avengers to assist him.

He activates it, and maps the building’s exits while he waits.

There are only two, front and side, and he picks a perch across the street which gives him sightlines on both, then settles in.

\---

“What’s wrong?”

Barton doesn’t turn at the exclamation, not taking his eyes off the exits.  It’s been barely a quarter of an hour, and Steve and Natasha are somewhere behind him on the roof he’d picked as his lookout.

They made far better time than the agents had, watching the Winter Soldier so closely.

“Sitwell somehow activated the Winter Soldier,” Barton says, and he’s glad he’s not looking at Steve when he hears the noise he makes, like someone stomped on his heart.  “More agents came and took him in there,” he points at the building he’s been watching, “and they are still in there somewhere.”

Immediately he can sense that Steve’s walked right behind him, staring at the building as well.  Natasha follows, coming into his sight on his other side.

“We have to go in there and help him,” Steve says, and he sounds like something has broken inside him.

Barton sees Natasha frown in his peripheral vision.

“We need a plan, Steve.  We can’t go in blind with the Winter Soldier as a potential enemy as well,” she says.

Barton nods his agreement, still not looking away.

“Natasha, you take the side door, I’ll go in the front.  Barton, you cover us and the exits.  Take them alive if you can, if not, Bu-...James is the priority.”

Natasha and Barton nod in unison.

Then the building shudders with a loud _boom_ and several windows on the lower floors blow outward.

Then can feel the earth shake beneath them for a moment from the blast.

“ _James!_ ”  Steve shouts, and jumps across into one of the middle floors of the building, then down to the ground, running in through the blasted-out front door.

“Aw hell,” Barton mutters, readying an arrow as Natasha follows Steve into the building.

 


	16. There Are No Strings On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James’ perspective on what just happened.
> 
> Sorry, slightly shorter chapter.

When Sitwell uses one of the Winter Soldier’s activation codes, the programming is pulled forward and James feels its tug, but unlike in the past, it is a choice for him to follow it’s pull.

He does, knowing it is what Sitwell expects, and silently follows him as Sitwell gathers more Hydra agents, memorizing their faces and names.

It is only his assassin instincts, born from years of lurking around areas filled with hostiles, which tell him the archer friend of Steve’s is watching again as he leaves with the agents.  He feels Barton’s gaze like a pinprick on the back of his neck, and doesn’t react.

When one of the Hydra agents is actually smart enough to question the Winter Soldier’s return so soon after the destruction of the Hydra base in D.C., James knows Barton is likely to interfere.  After the gun is pointed in his face, his instincts tell him exactly how to disarm the man and kill him before the shot can go off, while a voice in his head tells him Barton might ruin his plan to go undercover in Hydra again because of the threat to his life.  He ignores both voices, instead listening to the programming’s demand to remain motionless unless ordered otherwise.

He dives deep into the programming when the agents shifts to target his right arm, and he doesn’t even flinch when the bullet rips through flesh and muscle.

It doesn’t hit anything major, and won’t slow him down.

Asset still fully functional.

His programming does not demand retaliation yet, but James makes a mental note to repay the agent if he gets a chance.

When the agents split with orders to gather more high-level members and regroup at some hidden Hydra base in the city, James silently follows the agents assigned to him.  Barton’s pursuit on the rooftops above does _not_ escape his notice, although the Avenger is quiet enough that James occasionally loses track of him for short periods of time.

When they reach the building, which looks just like every other abandoned building around them, in some level of disrepair, he goes inside, knowing the archer is watching the exits.

James then turns his focus fully on the agents around him, knowing the archer will probably call the Avengers, and they will intervene.

He can’t have long.

So James follows the agents down several levels, past what one would expect the building to have in terms of basements, and when they stop, they are easily five or six floors down, and he is stipped of his guns and knives by rather terrified agents, who do their best to hide their fear from him.

They fail miserably.

He’s fairly certain one of them is practically shaking in his boots when they finish and lead him into a room where several men he’s never seen before sit around a table, with Sitwell standing against the wall to one side.

“This is the Winter Soldier?” One older man asks, and James purposefully keeps his stare straight ahead, not looking at any of their faces.

Like the puppet they expect him to be,

“Doesn’t look like much, does he?”  Another voice says, this time a woman’s.

James doesn’t move while Sitwell nervously reports what James already knows his file must say - he and his handlers had been attacked by zombies, his handlers killed, and he was thought to be killed as well.

They were mostly right, except he’d been turned into a zombie instead.

The Hydra agents and officers talk among themselves for several minutes, with James fileing everything they say away, until one barks out orders to the agents still standing at James’ sides, and the agents march him away into another room.

James stops moving when he sees the familiar site.

In the center of the room, there’s another chair.   _The_ chair.

He hadn’t known what he was seeing or reacting to when he destroyed the one in the bank vault he’d taken Steve to, but now he remembered.  He had known there was more than one in the city, but he had never been shown where they all were.

He remembered more were in banks around the world than any other type of building, but they weren’t the only ones.

Rage filled his bones, and when one of the two agents guarding him ordered him into the chair, he let the rage and numbness inside him override the Winter Soldier’s programming.

It took him seconds to kill everyone in the room.

It only took moments more to take a miniscule explosive he’d filched from Stark’s workshop in the safe zone, which the Hydra agents had missed, and flinging it at the chair, it blew when he was already down the hall.

He disarmed and killed one agent standing in the hall with his metal arm, wasting no bullets, then relied on Hydra’s fairly standard methods of laying out their bases in order to retrieve his weapons, and steal more of Hydra’s.

Fifteen well-places timed grenades later, and James was bolting up the stairwell.

He was somewhere above ground level and still sprinting when the grenades blew, and the whole building shuddered.

The windows blew out and James lost his footing as the stairs began to crumble, not built to withstand heavy assaults.

James doubled back to pick off any survivors who might make it to the ground floor, running back towards the entrance to head them off.

He squinted through the smoke and dust generated by the explosion while he ran, and despite his somewhat enhanced sight, he didn’t notice the figure bearing down on him until he’d almost run into him.

“ _James?_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. (James and) I FOOLED YOU. ;P
> 
> Also, I've now finished writing this, and whoops, surprise, one more chapter! That's not going to be the end of the series though, just James' initial return story.
> 
> Hmmm...bribery. If I get three comments from different people on this chapter (not including me), I'll post the final chapter Monday instead of Wednesday (well, Tuesday night).


	17. Once More Unto the Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats, the three commenters on the last chapter got you an early update, as promised!

James blinks in surprise when he nearly runs into Steve, then as the building gives an ominously unsteady shudder, James grabs his arm and pushes Steve out in front of him.

A hint of sound and motion behind him, and James turns to see the other Russian assassin - Natasha, he’d heard her called - standing behind him, eyeing him guardedly with her gun in her hand, but not pointed at him.

He tilts his head towards the door, and she nods, following them out.

It only takes a moment before Barton joins them, using a grappling arrow to allow him to reach ground level quickly.

“How did you get out?”  He demands, surprising James with the concern.  “How did you break the programming?”

Natasha and Steve are both watching him too, and James shifts away a step or two nervously, unused to being so close to people.

Somewhere in his brain, he’s aware of the heat they give off, and there is still an instinct telling him they would make a good meal, but he’s not starving, and he pushes away the thought without much difficulty.

“Whaat took you so long?”  James half-growls instead of answering, and the others freeze.

His voice is fair steadier than it had been before.

“You...you can talk clearly?”  Steve asks, shocked.

“Haard,” James admits, still tripping over some vowels, “but the programming heelps.”

“But you’re not...going to go Winter on our asses?”  Both ex-Soviet assassins and Steve glare at Barton.

“No,” James growls.  “Or maaybe just you.”

Barton looks nervous for a moment, and James gives him a flat look.

It is so reminiscent of Bucky that Steve feels a wave of nostalgia and starts laughing.  He knows it’s either that or he’ll cry, and he doesn’t want to with Bucky standing so close by, even if he’s James now.

Barton and Natasha both look at Steve like he’s lost his marbles, but James doesn’t react, listening for noises behind them in the building.

When he hears the rustling of footsteps, he raises his gun, turning around, and one of the Hydra officers exits the building only to find James’ gun leveled right in his face.

Steve and the two spies are right behind him, and their weapons come up as well, bringing two other agents to a halt when they make it outside.  Barton splits off to cover the side exit, and Steve and Natasha begin tying up the survivors.

James slips back into the building when he’s confident the dozen or so people who make it out are the last of the survivors.

He heads straight for where he expects their files to be, and he’s right.

With their computers fried just like everyone else, everything is on paper, although mostly in code.

_Idiots_ , James thinks, as he recognizes the code.  He can break it.

He gathers up what he can and brings it back up.  He manages two more silent, fast trips before the others catch on to his disappearing acts, and Natasha follows him in on the next trip.  Between the two of them, they box up and bring out all the files they can find, while the other Avengers arrive.

James follows them back to the safe zone at a cautious distance, Steve hanging back closer to him.

Some of their prisoners were SHIELD agents, and when they reach the safe zone, they cause a small uproar when SHIELD finds out what happened.

James does not follow them into the base, but promises Steve he’ll wait in the perch he and Barton both prefer.

It takes nearly two hours for Steve to return, stuck explaining about Hydra before he could slip away, and he isn’t alone when he joins James in the perch.

Barton, Stark, and Banner are with him, and James eyes the latter two nervously.

“Hey, calm down, Hobo Soldier,” Stark says, and James glares at him.

“Okay, fine, Murderous Undead Hobo Soldier,” Stark revises, rolling his eyes, and Steve runs a hand over his eyes.

“Stark,” he asks, almost pleading, and Stark shrugs.

“No one can take a joke these days,” he laments to James.  “Was he any looser in the forties, or were you both just stiffs?”

Steve just sighs, but Banner’s mouth twitches in a smile he hides behind a hand, while Barton and Stark openly smirk.  Barton holds out a hand and Stark high-fives it.

James just looks at them like they’re all the crazy ones.

“Anyway,” Banner remarks, taking a step towards James and stopping, as James’ eyes snap to him.  “We think we found out a few things from your blood.”

James makes a questioning sound, and Stark takes over.  He babbles words James doesn’t really understand, until -

“Staark,” James grunts, and the genius freezes.  “Eenglish,” he insists, and Stark swallows.

“Uh, right.  We can’t make a cure,” he says, and beside him, Steve’s face falls.  “We _might_ be able to synthesize some kind of vaccine, but there’s no stopping the virus once someone is infected.  But we _can_ make something you should be able to eat besides _us_.”

“Like...artificial brains?”  Steve asks, and Banner nods.

“Basically,” he agrees.

Steve turns hopeful eyes on James, who internally winces at the thought of getting his hopes up that James would ever be normal.

“Why aam I diffeereent?”  James asks.

Banner blinks at being addressed directly, but waves a hand to fend off Stark when he starts to launch into a rambling explanation.

“Your guess was right.  The early strain of the virus in your system, plus Zola’s serum which Steve told us about, seems to have given you a partial immunity.  When you were infected again, it overwrote Hydra’s programming, and then the partial immunity let you fight the virus’ drive to feed, when seeing Steve sparked your memories.”  Banner said.  “At least, that’s what we think.”

James nodded, accepting the explanation.

“Then, James, will you come back with us?  You don’t need to be afraid of...feeding on us,” Steve pleaded.

James glanced away.

“Neeeed to stop Hydraa first,” he says.  “More heeaads aaaree still aaalivee.”

Steve’s face fell, then hardened.

“Then I’ll go with you,” he said, voice firm.

James shook his head, even as Barton spoke up.

“You can’t, Cap, we’re going to need you here, particularly while we try to figure out if there are more members of Hydra hiding in SHIELD.”  Barton says, then turns to James.  “I’m guessing you could read those files, since Nat can?”

James nods.

“He’s not going alone,” Steve insists, glaring at Barton.

James frowns at being addressed like he’s not there, even if it’s Steve and he knows it isn’t meant badly.

“Of course not,” Barton says easily, and both Steve and James blink.  “I’ll go with him.”

Steve gapes at Barton, but James tilts his head, considering the archer, and nods.  He can trust this man.

Steve glances between them and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, I can see I’m going to be outvoted.  Fine, you two get to go hunt down Hydra.  We’ll manage back here.  Tony, can you give them something to let us talk to them?”  Steve addresses his question to the genius still standing next to him.

Stark nods.

“Sure, I have something like that in my workshop, it could use a field test.  How about it?”

Both snipers nod.

“Okay, How about you two get ready for your nazi-hunting trip, and meet back here tomorrow, and Barton, I’ll give you the communicator and some of the zombie feed for our undead friend here while you pack.”  Tony says.

The four Avengers and James talk a little longer before the two geniuses and the archer head back, then James is left with a worried Steve.

It reminds him just a little of old memories, the last time Bucky Barnes had left to go off killing nazis without his best friend.

“Be safe.  Don’t do anything stupid until you get back.”

Evidently Steve is remembering it too, and James’ mouth twitches at the twist to their last parting.

“How caan I,” James replies, knowing his lines, “I’m leeaaving aaall the stupid with you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I realize I'm repeating myself a little with the re-explanation of why James is not like other zombies, but before it was James' guess, now they know for sure.)
> 
> This isn’t the end of the series, and there will be more in this series. But this was Bucky’s return story, and this is where it ends, for now. :)  
> I hope you liked it!
> 
> I’ll be publishing a few various shorts while I skeleton the next big fic plot, then that will start going up soon!


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